Sacrificial Lamb
by Cae Thomas aka CNL
Summary: Give me something I can take, can take to make the memories fade...  A poison kiss, remember this-I never was meant for this day...


Lightning flashed outside the window, heavy drops of rain beating against the glass. Thunder rolled, deep and ominous across the grounds. Draco watched the storm batter the walls of Hogwarts School with indifference. The stone ledge he sat on and the panes of the window he leaned against were cold enough to chill even those with a constant warmth. Draco was numb to the icy touch. He'd been numb to many things lately. Lightning lit up his pale face, illuminating the dark room around him for only a second or two.

It was the same room they'd spent so many evenings in together, different only in the lack of light and warmth it had held when they were together. But now that was gone forever, just as _he_ was gone. Draco turned his cheek to the glass, his hand pressed against the cool pane as he sobbed, the tears coming back in full force once more.

He wished there was something—anything—a potion or a charm, that would make the memories fade and disappear. He didn't want to remember his smiling face, the way his eyes lit up when he laughed. He didn't want to recall the way his mouth tasted when they kissed, the way his body arched into Draco's as they made love. He wanted to forget every moment they'd spent together. Only then would the pain go away.

Draco stood, wiping his eyes. He left the cold, dark room and made his way down the seven floors to the dungeons. He stood before the large oak door that sealed Snape's private stores. Raising his wand, his mind already made up, Draco blasted the lock from the door. It swung open and he stepped inside. Mumbling a quick lumos, he peered into the dim light as he scanned the dozens of labeled bottles lining the shelves.

Spotting the bottle he wanted, he reached for it. The glass was smooth in his hand, its weight comforting against his palm. He left the storeroom, not bothering to close the door, and went deeper into the dungeons. The temperature dropped steadily as he descended further under the castle. Reaching the familiar corridor, he stopped.

Draco closed his eyes, flicking his wand and concentrating on the image in his mind. His eyes fluttered open. Lining the hall were a dozen torches, their flames casting eerie shadows upon the walls. The blonde moved forward, determined now to reach his goal. He stopped before the heavy oak door. He pressed his wand to the lock, heard it click, and pushed hard on the door.

A thousand different images flashed through his mind, memories left imbedded from that fateful night. He moved forward into the room. A wave of his wand lit the candles perched around the chamber. They hadn't been cleared away yet. Blood-red wax dripped like tears, the flames dancing with dark grace as Draco moved into the center of the room, shedding his roves and tie as he walked.

He could almost feel the blood pooling on the tiles beneath him, crimson and metallic as it had been the night they'd found his body. He'd looked so small in death, so fragile and pale. Draco closed his eyes against the memory. Raising his wand once more, he wrought a message upon the wall before him. Satisfied, he placed his wand on the floor. He wouldn't be needing it anymore.

He removed the stopper from the bottle in his hands and drank deeply, feeling his throat begin to burn almost instantly. He let the bottle fall, empty, to the floor. Closing his eyes, he turned his face upward. His breaths began to slow, becoming more forced as the poison raced through his veins.

He wondered if this was what he had felt when he'd died, or if it had been much easier, painless. He remembered finding him. He'd been with the group who'd searched these deepest parts of the castle. He remembered feeling himself shatter at the sight. The smell of blood and incense had been heavy in the air, almost suffocating. He'd broken down in front of them all, sobbing as he held the cold, lifeless body in his arms. He'd brushed back the midnight black hair, wet with blood, had looked into lightless emerald eyes that had once held such warmth and love—love for him. Draco exhaled a final time, and let the darkness take him.

They found the blonde's body three days later in the same eerie dungeon corridor where Harry Potter had been found dead one month earlier. Blood red candles had burned around the room, illuminating the message written in blood upon the wall.

_Donec mors nos separaverit._

Till death do us part.


End file.
